


Telenovas for Beginners

by treble



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-09
Updated: 2013-05-09
Packaged: 2017-12-10 22:14:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/790775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/treble/pseuds/treble
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An average February 14th at Greendale? Impossible. Instead we've got estranged relatives, secretive secrets, a giant handbag, and a boombox that refuses to stay lost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Telenovas for Beginners

**Author's Note:**

> **Spoilers** : Through current season of Community, though I started writing this about a year ago, so it was before an established T/B relationship. I've added parts of season 4 in but this safely takes place in an AU world.
> 
>  **Author's Note** : Keep in mind many ships will get addressed at one point or another, but fic is primarily gen, with hints of J/B, J/A, and Ab/T. Thanks!

“And another thing! Do you know how many cultures use red as a color of oppression? The fact that we use red to celebrate Valentine’s Day and all that love crap is _basically_ our way of honoring the Khmer Rouge.” Britta slammed her hand into the palm of her fist while behind her the rest of the study group continued their trek toward the library, all wearing varying expressions of boredom, irritation and apathy.

“Really, Britta? You are _really_ choosing to make _this_ your cause of the week?” Shirley sighed.

Jeff rubbed his brow. “I just don’t know how many times I can say this but sometimes listening to you talk? It’s like listening to a baby duck with its face stuck in a bottle of peanut butter. Weird indignant squeaks and mumbling.”

“First off, you’re an asshole. Secondly, how did you even come up with that? It’s disturbing on so many levels. Did something happen to you in a cafeteria as a child? Because- ”

“Britta, you’re missing the point.”

“Whatever, Jeff. This is why you aren’t allowed near my cats.”

Annie leaned over to Britta. “He had a turtle once….”

The two girls exchanged knowing glances.

“Whatever, it was his time,” Jeff mumbled.

Britta shook her head and stopped walking. “Guys! We need to focus on the issue at hand. Do you know how many people the Khmer Rouge killed?"

“2.2 million.” Abed muttered quietly, while Pierce gleefully shouted, “Not enough?”

“See, none of you know. And neither do they. It was _that many_. We might as well put up some barbed wire around this place and take a giant collective time out. Teach us some cultural sensitivity. And other stuff… you know, like that."

Jeff shrugged. “Britta, as impressed as I am that you are pronouncing it correctly, if you can even name the country related to the Khmer Rouge, we all promise to take you really, super seriously in this year’s new and original quest to oppose Valentine’s Day.”

“Well, amigos, break out your protesting bandanas and poster board ‘cause it was CAMBODIA FOR THE WIN.”

Britta rolled her shoulders and was transitioning into a jumping jack running man when she realized the group, save Pierce (who was doing a terrible version of his racist robot), was staring at her oddly. She abruptly stopped dancing and began to fiddle with the straps of her backpack.

“Okay, obviously not for the win. No one won in that scenario but-”

Jeff held his hand out, silencing Britta, who scowled in response. He turned to Annie with a raised eyebrow. “Ms. Edison, can you verify Ms. Perry’s answer?”

Annie smiled at Jeff. “Yes, Mr. Winger, Cambodia is correct.”

Shirley rolled her eyes. “Sure, ask Annie. Not like I knew that too.”

“So did I.” Abed added.

“Yeah… I totally did too….I mean, Cambodia. Duh doy. Where commodes come from.” Troy’s eyes were wide as he glanced at each member of the study group.

Annie shook her head and gently rested her hand on Troy’s shoulder.

“Ugh, whatever,” Britta flipped her hair off her shoulder. “The point is you, Jeff, always underestimate me and **_I_** knew the answer. I totally Annie’d some knowledge down on all of you. Now per the rules of that very binding agreement, everyone has to be onboard with my plan to boycott Valentine’s Day. We can have a nice, normal, emotion-free February 14 th, no weird make-outs, no weird drama. Just a day like any other.”

Jeff snapped, “I’m preemptively congratulating you for a day well-ruined, because there is no way you didn’t just jinx us and destine us to an afternoon full of idiocy and glitter.”

The group turned the last corner into the study room, where they came to an abrupt halt.  Sitting at their table in the seat usually left vacant was an attractive, prim brunette in her mid 30s, impeccably dressed with a giant Louis Vuitton bag perched in her lap. She had a striking resemblance to Annie.

“I just can’t go through another battle for this table. I can’t! I still have shin splints from last time and oh, just look at her pointy shoes,” Troy whimpered.

“Ohh, those _are_ seriously cute shoes,” Annie whispered. Shirley nodded in agreement.

At the sound of the group’s whispering, the woman slowly turned to face the group. She locked on Britta with a warped smile.

“Oh hello, Brittany. Or should I just say, little sister? I was told I could find you here. Long time no see. What has it been, eight years? Since that time in Chicago? With Pablo?”

“So clearly not long enough. Everyone, meet Jessica. My sister, I suppose,” Britta responded snidely.

Abed pumped his fist, “Estranged sister? Nice twist.” His face turned thoughtful. “Though we do lean heavily on estranged relatives.” He glanced around the group. “No one else has long lost relatives, right? Because we are pushing believability with this troupe.”

Jeff began to make his way to the front of the group, eyes locked on his cell phone, “And there goes today.”

“Are we ignoring the fact that Britt-mare here just got called Brittany? Isn’t that some sort of hate crime for lesbians?” Pierce asked as he walked towards his seat.

Jeff gave a curt laugh, “Oh, we noticed it. And that’s the little tidbit that will launch a thousand country club jok-” He stopped abruptly upon seeing Jessica’s face, and looked like he’d seen a ghost.

“Wait, Jeff Winger?” Jessica asked, confused.

“Jessie?”

“Jessie?!” Britta yelped “What the crap? Do you two know each other?”

Jessica became very preoccupied with the straps of her handbag, while Jeff tried to slink back behind Pierce and Annie. Annie began to examine Jessica intently.

“Oh wonderful, sin runs in the family. Color me surprised.” Shirley took her seat and unabashedly stared at the newcomer.

Abed slowly circled the table, stopping right behind Jessica and nodding pensively. “I think I know what’s going on here. Troy, what do you think?

Troy nodded solemnly, “I think it is.”

“Oh, it definitely is,” Abed agreed.

“I _knew_ the air tasted spicy this morning.” Troy stuck his tongue out with a giant smile.

“Wait for it.” Abed drummed on the back of Jessica’s chair.

“Oh, I’d wait forever.” Troy joined Abed’s drumming, before they both abruptly stopped and just stared at each other.

And waited.

Jeff looked over at Annie, who shrugged.

Annie looked over at Britta, who slumped in her chair with her head in her hands.

Shirley looked over at Troy, who was still just looking at Abed.

Pierce tried looking at everyone, but no one looked back.

Finally everyone’s gaze settled on Abed, who stoically maintained his gaze on Jessica.

Eventually, Jessica exploded.

“What the hell is going on in here? I demand someone tell me what is going on.”

Abed dramatically began to arch and wiggle his eyebrows, while out of nowhere, dramatic music began to play.

“Es una telenovela,” Abed whispered.

The music took on a distinctly Latin flavor.

“What?” Jessica asked.

“Claaaaro kay sea!” exclaimed Troy.

“Nice.” Abed nodded.

“Graaaa-ceee-asss.” Troy grinned, and the two performed their handshake.

Jeff finally sat down in his seat and threw his legs up on the desk. “Cut it out you guys. This isn’t the time. Jessie, erm, Jessica, why don’t you just tell us why you are here and we can all go on with our average, normal day. And seriously, where the hell is the music coming from?”

Abed pulled a boombox out from below the chair and placed it on the table, hitting the off button in the process.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for that!” Britta exclaimed.

“And you just had it cued up with Latin music?” Shirley asked.

“I had a premonition.” Abed offered as everyone else took their seats.

Britta grabbed the boombox and clutched it in her lap as silence finally fell over the table.

Everyone turned to Jessica.

She raised her eyebrow and then cleared her throat. “Fine, Brittany- ”

“It’s Britta and has been since 7th grade.”

“Whatever. I don’t know if you want to do this here.”

“These are my friends, unlike you, who has been a backstabbing bitch for thirty years, so go for it.”

“Ugh, good to know you are still the worst.”

“Hey!” Troy exclaimed, “What is it with outsiders trying to call Britta the worst? And she’s the best.”

“Exactly.” Shirley grimaced. “And anyway, calling her the worst is our right. So watch it, small bones.”

Jessica rolled her eyes. “I coined the phrase in second grade while on the monkey bars, so you all can watch yourselves. Anyway, I was only trying to do _Brittany_ the courtesy of telling her the very personal information I recently found out.”

She folded her arms over her chest smugly and took a dramatic pause. “We’re not entirely related. Mom had an affair. Twice.”

Annie and Shirley gasped.

“What?” Britta leaned back.

Abed leaned over to hit play on the boombox resting in Britta’s arms. “Called it.”

“Ole!” Troy jumped up and threw a handful of loose papers with a goofy grin before looking over at the rest of the faces around the table. He slowly sat back down, subtly shaking his head at Abed, who then shrugged, leaned over and pressed next song on the boombox.

Meatloaf’s “I Would Do Anything for You (But I Won’t Do That)” immediately filled the room. But otherwise, there was silence.

***(tbc)***


End file.
